


Distract Me

by ragesty



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellamy wants to help, Bit o' smoochin in the rain, Clarke needs help, F/M, Post Season 2, bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-05
Updated: 2015-07-05
Packaged: 2018-04-07 17:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,144
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4272540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragesty/pseuds/ragesty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke didn’t break her gaze once as she said “Distract me”.</p><p>Set post-season two, Clarke has returned to the Ark, but not without the weight of her past. And Bellamy wants more than anything to be able to help her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Distract Me

Bellamy was watching a few hundred metres back. He was trying to teach the Arkers some skills with their guns, but so far, the situation was seemingly pretty dire. He had quickly lost interest at the task at hand however, once Clarke had stepped out of the Ark and just stood in the middle of their little bustling city. Just watching, taking it all in.

She had been back for three weeks, after literally running into her in the woods whilst he had been hunting. The surprise of seeing her crouching there below the bushes, eyeing the same deer that had caught his attention, had almost physically made him fall to the ground. The relief of seeing her alive, the worry of seeing her so thin, and the hurt that still lingered after she had abandoned him, all came out into a small “Clarke?” that cracked on her one syllable.

But she was here now, and she was safe, and she was slowly starting to regain her health, which was more than what Bellamy could have asked for.

But there was still something there, something that made Bellamy’s brow crease with worry whenever she would look at him, and made his heart quench whenever she bit her lip. Because although her eyes were still blue, they no longer held the ferocity of a flame or the determination to survive that was once contained in her piercing orbs. And every time Bellamy thought of that, he wanted to throw up.

Clarke was here, but she wasn’t.

Bellamy knew she tried to cover it. She would still laugh at Jasper and Monty, but her eyes wouldn’t shine. She would still argue with her mother, but the strength in her voice would lack. She would still hug Bellamy, but her grip wasn’t as tight.

And he blamed himself. If he had just said something more, convinced her to stay, and learn to continue on together. Be each other’s guidance. But he hadn’t and she’d left and she’d returned looking as if she had carried twice the weight of Atlas.

 

She sat down on a nearby rock and covered her face with her hands, before retuning her gaze to the events around her, her chin cupped by her calloused fingers. Her hair was still as golden as ever, which brought a small amount of comfort to his mind. The way it fell over her shoulders, the more prominent strands catching the light and looking as if they had been forged from the sun’s rays itself.

But then he noticed the shoulders that sagged beneath it, and a lump formed in his throat.

He had already tried bringing up the events of the past with her, trying to talk her into acceptance of forgiveness. But she wouldn’t have it. Any mention of the Mountain Men would leave her with teeth clenched and stiff steps away from him. He learned quickly. She simply did not want to talk about it.

Which was fine with him in a way, because those words only conjured up images of death in his mind. But he so desperately wanted to help her. But he couldn’t, and he hated himself for it.

And with that in mind, he turned his back to the girl and continued listing the techniques for straight aim.

 

****

 

Clarke was being undeniably rude. That was the only way Bellamy could describe it. And although he knew all too well that it was just a mechanism for trying to shield herself away from other people so they couldn’t see any damage, he was growing tired of it.

Mostly, because she had just snapped at him that he had somehow managed to lose inventory even though he was in charge of supplies. Which was true, but in his defense Abby had decided to place a ‘lock-down’ system on all weapons-meaning only a few could be handed out at any given time for hunting and training. Bellamy didn’t agree with this, and argued that they need to be ready to defend themselves at all time, but Abby wouldn’t listen. He had found that increasingly the case when Clarke had left.

So, as she was eating across from him and rolled her eyes as he explained this, he stood up with such a force that sent his empty cup flying. Clarke looked up at him, and clenched her hands as if preparing for an argument and shook her head slightly, making some of her golden strands that were tucked behind her ear fall out and frame her face.

Bellamy -much to his embarrassment- had a sudden urge to call her straight-out beautiful, because in that moment, it was like a fragment of the old Clarke had returned, even if it was just for a second, as she was gearing herself up to fight with Bellamy.

The way the blue in her eyes had hardened, turning into the colour of the sky as it deepened just before night fell, rather than the usual hue of a calm, still lake. The storm in her eyes resided just as quickly as it had come on however, and her gaze fell back to the bowl of lunch she had been playing with.

“Sorry,” she muttered, unable to look Bellamy in the face. He grimaced, closing his eyes and sighing before sitting back down. Luckily, they hadn’t drawn too much attention, as most of the Arkers had already finished their meals and were returning to their daily duties.

“It’s okay,” he said firmly, making sure she believed it. “It’s okay to be mad”.

She peered at him. After a moments silence, she nodded, which lifted about ten bricks off of Bellamy’s chest. Then, much to his astonishment and resulted in his heart missing a few beats, she smirked.

“Just make sure my mom doesn’t hide away any more of our guns,” she teased.

“I’ll try my best” he replied, not being able to help the corners of his mouth that tipped upwards. A small smile played on her lips as she stared down her food, before suddenly standing up.

“Well, we better get back to work” she said, already making her way out of the dining hall, with her blonde wisps trailing behind her and her boots clunking as they met the ground at a steady pace.

She was already long gone before Bellamy had the chance to croak “Yeah”. He couldn’t get the sight of her lips curving upward, making the little dimples that normally stayed well hidden in her cheeks finally appear. The way the corners of her eyes crinkled ever so slightly, a sure sign she was amused.

 _He had made her smile_ , he thought, which in turn brought a grin to his face. He shook his head, and swiftly made his way outside, to sort out the business with the supplies.

 

****

 

She was having a good day. She was laughing easily at Raven’s recount of how she had almost an entire days’ worth of food to a bear, whilst she had been scouting the area. Apparently, it had favoured the cranberries over the rest of it, allowing Raven to scoop up her stash and make a run for it, but not before flipping it the finger.

Bellamy was only listening half-heartedly; he was more content on focussing his attention on Clarke, who would occasionally throw her head back and clap her hands with amusement at the story. Whenever she did this, it would automatically result in a grin upon Bellamy’s face, one that was hard to wipe.

 _God_ , he thought to himself. _This girl has no idea the effect she has on me_.

 

****

 

The good days would quickly turn into bad days though. She would become distant as her eyes lost focus and turned the colour of a stale grey, and she wouldn’t speak unless it had to do with important matters of duty.

Some days, she was nowhere to be found. Bellamy would search of course, but usually to no avail. And he was exhausted for her; he had no idea how she still managed to stay upright carrying all that burden, her tiny frame struggling and yet still bearing the weight the last few month’s had thrown upon her. He was so very, very worried for her. But also in awe. Clarke was strong. And although her blue was dull, a part of her was still marching on, through all the hell. And that gave him hope.

 

One afternoon, thick, heavy black clouds were rolling in relentlessly from the east, making nightfall come around earlier than usual. The storm looked threatening; threatening enough that he and some of the others were gathering everyone and ordering them to hunker down and stay inside until they announced it had passed.

And of course, Clarke was nowhere to be seen.

At first, Bellamy wasn’t too worried; Clarke was smart, and would recognise the danger and come back to safety. It was only until most of the Arkers had been moved inside, and the thunder was snapping and cracking rather than a throbbing rumble in the distance, that Bellamy became anxious.

If she was alright, she would have been back by now, from wherever she was. But she wasn’t, and he was starting to visualise the thousand things that could have gone wrong.

She could have gotten lost and unable to find her way back to camp; unlikely, but it was definitely dark, so still possible. She could have been taken captive by God knows who, which would be extremely bad and makes him feel nauseous just at the thought of it. He dismisses that possibility immediately though; he has to trust that Clarke is still alert enough to keep away from danger. She could also just be being stubborn. She gets trapped easily in her own thoughts, and doesn’t allow anybody to come near her. That would explain why she hasn’t come back… she would be stuck in the Ark, surrounded only by her demons and the people that remind her of them. Including him.

The anxiety in his chest builds, and he chews the inside of his cheek. And although he understands her reasoning, it frustrates him beyond belief that she would just leave herself out in the face of unmistakable danger. He calls Jaspar’s name, who is slouching against a wall, next to Raven. Jaspar immediately senses the concern in Bellamy’s voice, and stands.

“I’m going out,” says Bellamy bluntly. No time to explain. To his relief though, Jaspar just nods.

“I got your back.” And with that, Bellamy flings the hood of this jacket over his head and turns on his heel to sprint out into the grey.

 

He’s been running for 15 minutes. 15 minutes, and still no sign of Clarke.

He’s already searched two of the possible four places she could be hiding. He groans; with any luck, he’d only have time to visit the lake, which was perhaps another 10 minutes to the west, and then return to camp again in time. At least the lake was in the opposite of the storm.

He reached the lake just as the drops of water turned from what was a light, constant shower, to a thick and heavy downpour. He needed to find Clarke fast, and he could feel his fists clench at his notice of no apparent sign of her along the shore. He ran along the perimeter, just to make sure, but he was starting to panic. The thousand possibilities that all lead to her death or kidnapping came flooding back into his thoughts.

 _He has to find her_.

 _He’s not going to find her_.

“Bellamy?” Bellamy dug his heels into the soft Earth and turned, eyes wide.

“Clarke?” he yelled, still not seeing her anywhere. “Clarke, where are you!”

“Up here,” her soft voice called. Bellamy’s eyes tilted upwards, until he found the face of the girl that had him so worried he thought he might’ve just died there on the shore of the lake. Her loose hair hung wet and limp, framing her face that was clearly tear-streaked and red.

“Hey” was the only word Bellamy could muster. The sadness that filled her eyes was overwhelming. She smiled a small thing at that though.

“You should be in the Ark,” she said.

“So should you.” He examined the tree, searching for a route that he would be able to climb if he was forced to go up and drag her down. “Clarke, you need to come down. The storm looks a hell of a lot worse when you get out of this side of the lake, and its coming straight for us. We need to go”. The rain was starting to thicken. He met her gaze. “Clarke.”

“I can’t, Bellamy. There’s no way I can go into that Ark, sit by the people who look at me with resentment or pity or both, or even those who can’t look at me at all, and know that I did something that no one should ever have to do. To kill so many. Children. Mya…” Her eyes were rimmed red again, the tears threatening to spill over, to join the rain that wet her cheeks. “I can’t go back. I won’t”. She snapped her head away then, refusing to look at Bellamy.

“So you’d rather sit out here and freeze to death?” Bellamy smirked, desperately trying to lighten the mood. “Real dramatic Clarke.” He thanked the Gods when she hiccupped a laugh, her hands trying to rub the red from her eyes and nose. She sighed, but still didn’t look at him.

“Ever the optimist. You need to go back Bellamy, or you’ll be in danger of being dramatic with me”. She meant it light-heartedly to match him, but it sent cold rivers of blood through his veins. He spoke low,

“I would do whatever it took, just to know that you’re safe.” Clarke looked him dead in the eye then. “Always,” he breathed. She didn’t say anything, but didn’t break his gaze either. He noticed her chest was rising and falling faster than before. “Please come down”.

But still, only silence. She was biting her lip, chewing subconsciously as she suddenly became very fascinated with the hard wood of the tree she was perched in. Keeping her eyes on the bark, she said, “Only if you promise me you’ll do me a favour”.

Bellamy exhaled the breath he had been holding. This was good. He could get her home now.

“Anything.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Come down.”

Clarke turned away from him, and started to make her way down the other side of the tree where she could no longer be seen. A moment later, she stepped out from behind the trunk, but with an undeniably nervous expression manipulating her soft features. Bellamy would have asked, and then comforted, but there was time for that later.

The rain was now pelting down around them, sheets of it ripping through the sky and landing hard on the dirt-packed ground. They had to go now. But she was moving too slowly. He reached forward, grabbing her wrist with a gruff “Time to run” and went to pivot to the South, back to the dropship, when Clarke’s other hand lands square on his chest, blocking his movement. He wouldn’t have anyway, he was too surprised.

She took a step closer, her eyes on the ground that distanced them. All he could was stare down at her, his brown curls falling on his forehead. Her hand still on his chest. She was a mere four inches away from him when she finally looked up, and then he saw her eyes trapped and drowning in another wave of tears.

“My favour” was all she said. Bellamy pulled away, there was no time for this.

“Clarke…” But she held firm, replacing his hold on her wrist with hers wrapped around his. She stood taller, all the traces of a break down earlier completely gone.

“No, Bellamy. You don’t understand. The favour was meant for now”.

He examined her, exasperated. They clearly didn’t have time for this. But there was a slow ripple of the blue fire spreading in her eyes, of the sort he hadn’t seen in a very long time. And that stopped him short, for a reason he couldn’t quite place.

His silence gave Clarke the opportunity to take another step, closing the gap between them. He could see the tiny droplets of water in her eyelashes, the way they reflected her cerulean, and he could see the fairy-light trail of golden freckles along the bridge of her nose, spattered so perfectly and spontaneously it was as though the Gods had thrown them there themselves. He couldn’t breathe.

Clarke didn’t break her gaze once as she said “Distract me”.

“What… what do you mean?” Bellamy sputtered. He tried to look quizzical, but he knew exactly what she meant. Her eyes were full of meaning.

“You know exactly what I mean”.

She cocked her head, searching his face. She was trying to appear confident, he could tell that much, but her glistening eyes framed by knitted eyebrows revealed the vulnerability she was desperately trying to keep hidden.

This immediately made him take a step back.

“No, Clarke…” he shook his head, and went to turn, but again her hand gripped his wrist. When he met her eyes again, there was no more façade. She bore her blue eyes into his brown ones as she spoke,

“Bellamy, I know you know how much I’m hurting. For some reason, I can never seem to fool you. Mostly, because I think you feel the exact same way as I do. Perhaps you’re just better at being strong than I am. I don’t know. But you are the only thing that keeps me sane. Everything else drives me to the point of insanity, a shadow that burns into my skin and makes me feel so resentful. Of myself. And lonely. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to get over the fact that everything that has happened, has been caused by my actions. And that feeling is so, so dark. Sometimes I convince myself I won’t ever be able to escape it. Sometimes, I tell myself I don’t deserve too.”

Tears were rolling down her cheeks again, but she kept his wrist tight in her grasp, her words tumbling over one another as they tried to find their escape from the lips that had kept them a secret for so long.

“I need you to help me, Bellamy. I know that you want to. I want you to. I just didn’t realise how. But you can give me something, and hopefully I can give it to you too. A distraction. A way out, even if just for a few moments. Please”. She looked him dead in the eye. “Distract me.”

Honestly, it hurt a little that this was she thought of him as, but he wasn’t surprised. He always knew in his heart that Clarke would never see him more than a partner, a leader, a friend. And in time, he convinced himself that that was all he thought of her too.

But now, with her thumb brushing his wrist, her hair falling around her face, her eyes trained on his lips, and the rain pouring down around them, he couldn’t refuse Clarke. He couldn’t refuse the girl that reminded him of the sun and of a gentle breeze that all managed to entwine into a single being. He wants to help her. And, be damned, this is the way.

His lips swept down, capturing hers as they met for the first time.

For one second, nothing happened as they simply stilled and savoured the moment. Neither of them anticipated the burning spark that had set alight that second afterwards.

And the heat only intensified as Bellamy moved his hands from their sides to Clarke’s neck and the small of her back, edging her closer to his chest as she flicked her tongue along his bottom lip, in which he replied by tilting her head upwards as he deepened the kiss.

Clarke wasn’t in it for slow, soft kisses. She wanted the burn, and the hard-pressed intoxication that came with it. So Bellamy gave it to her. He took control, moving her backwards through the rain, until Clarke was backed up against the tree and her hands were tangled in his hair. His hands were so warm compared to the rain soaking her skin, and her head instinctively leant into the hand that now cupped her cheeks with its thumb stroking the skin just below the corner of her eye.

Clarke smiled widely into the kiss at that. He was still trying to wipe away her tears, the remnants of her weaknesses.

Bellamy broke it off then, panting slightly and looking at her swollen lips. He focussed his gaze onto her eyes as he brought a hand up to rest on the tree next to Clarkes head.

“What?” he smirked at her, their faces still only inches apart. Clarke still just gaped at him, her smile leaving her features as she processed what had happened. How good it had felt. How she didn’t want it to end.

All she could do was shake her head and whisper “Why the hell haven’t we done that before?” Her eyes were trained on Bellamy’s, trying to communicate a message that she shan’t dare put into words. His eyes widened, and something appeared in his eyes that she couldn’t recognise.

But she was tired of their break now, and snaked a small hand through his thick curls to the nape of his neck, and pulled him down onto her. Bellamy didn’t have to be told twice. Their lips crashed together, and electricity pulsed through them, setting them ablaze.

He nibbled at her bottom lip, and she gasped, alarmed at her realisation of how badly she needed him to keep doing that, _just that_. But instead, Bellamy moved his head, so that his lips were playing with the sensitive spot just below her ear, and she couldn’t help but audibly moan into the rain.

Bellamy grunted in response, leaning more of his body weight into her as he quickened his pace down her neck, kissing as much skin as he could before she pulled him back to her own lips. They stayed like this for God-knows-how-long; tongues entwined, soft sighs and moans escaping every now and again, hands grasping at each other, greedily trying to touch more, _feel more_.

It wasn’t until a dangerously loud crack of lightning snapped above them, that they broke apart. Bellamy looked down at her, waiting. One of his hands was still resting slightly on Clarke’s waist, the other still planted firmly on the tree. Which he was thankful for, because otherwise he didn’t he’d be able to stand straight.

Clarke’s were still grasping the front material of Bellamy’s soaked shirt. She looked up at him, but still didn’t do anything to change their position. When she still didn’t say anything though, Bellamy became concerned. He went to step back, but not before Clarke pressed herself around him for a firm hug. Her arms wrapped around his back, and she could feel the taut muscles that were hiding beneath the hoodie.

“Thank you,” she whispered into his chest. Bellamy didn’t get the chance to encase her in his own arms before she pulled back and looked at him with a new wonder in her eyes that almost made him believe that he meant something. Her blue eyes were alight, even in the downpour of the rain, and he wanted to buckle at the knees and just hold her forever. And although Clarke knew he would never admit it, she saw him look at her differently too. Like she was a constellation that had just been stumbled upon after a millennia of searching. And that made her heart jump in her throat and hitch- because no one, not even Finn, had looked at her like that before. And she smiled. Really smiled. A smile that hadn’t been seen since before the mountain men, and the grounders, and all the shit they had been through. So of course, Bellamy’s split into a grin as well, both unable to contain themselves.

 

****

 

Hand in hand, they sprinted through the rain, ducking at each snap of lightning and roar of thunder, making their way back to the Ark. Bellamy was positive that they would both be struck down with the flu after this, but he didn’t care. He had regained a piece of Clarke back. He did. And to him, that was the most valuable thing in the world. And he hoped with everything he had, he would be able to keep finding pieces that she had lost- in any way he could.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy imaginings for season 3, kids.


End file.
